The Perfect Magic in the Everyday
by jadedrepartee
Summary: Written for EowynGoldberry for the Bones Secret Santa project. Booth and Brennan find everyday perfection in their single life shared.


**Author's Note:**

**This piece was written for EowynGoldberry for the Bones Secret Santa project; she ****requested a story about Booth and Brennan, involving romance, friendship and adventure. Eowyn, I hope like it!**

**Before going any further, I need to say thank you to my amazing beta-reader and brainstorming partner in crime: Some1tookmyname. She was there when this fic was just a tiny little kernel of an idea, helped with the idea-tossing and kept me going when I got stuck. This piece would not be what it is today without her help and I am truly blessed that she's part of my hamlet.**

**And since hamlets have many residents, I would be bereft if I didn't give a big thank you to jenlovesbones for her input and assistance with the beta reading.  
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**And finally, a shout-out to Sunsetdreamer and Eitoph, because they each have an amazing way of using parenthetical passages in their fics which I admire more than I can possibly express here. I don't think I can ever come close to touching the magic they each create when they write that way, but I was inspired to try.**

**(And for those of you reading this because you have me on author alert for my in-progress story, I haven't forgotten about that and hope to finish it soon!)  
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><p>The first time Booth noticed Brennan admiring a dollhouse, he didn't think anything of it. It was several months after the Christmas they had all spent locked in the lab together and he had dragged her with him to a toy store on their lunch break so he could pick out a birthday present for Parker.<p>

While he had been busy choosing the perfect remote control cars, (one for him, and one for Parker so they could race them around his apartment) she had wandered off on her own. He had expected to find her in the aisle with the chemistry sets and junior squint equipment, but instead had found her at the front of the store, her present for Parker – a book about dinosaurs – already paid for, looking at a dollhouse on display by the register.

The next time Booth noticed Brennan admiring a dollhouse was almost a year later, around the time of their second Christmas as partners. He had needed to stop by the rental shop to pick up his tuxedo for the Jeffersonian Christmas ball, and had parked across the street and half a block away. Rather than go with him, she had opted to wait in the car so she could go over some case notes.

Fifteen minutes later he was headed back to the car and caught sight of her staring out the window with an almost wistful expression on her face. Wondering what could possibly distract his workaholic partner from case notes, he followed her gaze to the window of the real estate office he had parked in front of. There, all decked out for Christmas, stood a beautiful Victorian-style dollhouse, complete with fake snow, tiny twinkling lights and a wreath on the front door.

If the count had remained at two, Booth could have dismissed it as coincidence, but it happened a third time in Kris Kringle's apartment. She had opened the small dollhouse on his kitchen table with a delicate, almost reverent, touch and peered inside, her blue eyes sparkling in wonder. When she caught him watching her, she sputtered, saying something about there not being any evidence inside, before closing the side of the small structure and walking away. Booth, however, knew that there was evidence there, just not the kind she was talking about.

After that, whenever he had a reason (or a few extra minutes and a plausible excuse) to go to a toy store, he found a way to cajole his partner into coming along. Each time, after getting her input on the educational value of various toys, she would wander off, leaving him to his decision, and he would invariably end up buying Parker something loud and obnoxious enough to annoy the hell out of Rebecca.

Every time she slipped away, he'd watch her, and she always headed straight for the dollhouses. He wondered what it was about the dollhouses that drew her in, but he never asked, and she never volunteered.

And then everything had fallen apart between them, and (just like so many other things in their lives when everything went sideways) their sojourns to the toy store had fallen by the wayside.

For a long time, the memory of those trips with Brennan had been bittersweet (more bitter than sweet, really). Although part of him mourned the loss of the innocence of his son's childhood, (and the innocence of those halcyon days with his partner) he had been thankful that Parker's attention had shifted towards hockey and baseball and video games and that toys were now the ghosts of Christmas past, because going into the toy store just wasn't the same without her by his side.

The first steps toward their new reality had been slow and halting, both afraid (terrified, really) that one tiny misstep would cost them what they both wanted so very badly.

The first overtures were hers: another drink; a Valentine's Day massacre; assurances of her belief in his goodness, and a promise to stay beside him (right where she always was); and the simple, quiet acceptance of the importance of a set of chairs that really weren't just another set of chairs after all.

The next steps were his: a strategic interception of her morning run and an offer to accompany her to a lecture about a war (the name of which he couldn't spell without looking it up); a mutual promise burned on a piece of paper; the assurances of his belief in her heart; a stated desire to do better and for things to be about more than luck.

The morning that their breakfast conversation had turned to a discussion about what to get for Baby Hodgins, there had been no question that it would be from both of them, together. It had taken them some time to figure out the perfect gift, but there had been a warm satisfaction in separately arriving at the same conclusion.

Timing, though, (as it always had been for them) had proven to be a challenge, and it wasn't until a couple of weeks after all their barriers had fallen that either of them was ready to face the prospect of going into a toy store again.

They had been walking together after lunch, index fingers intertwined in such a way that it looked to all the world like the backs of their hands were brushing (because they had decided to keep what was between them, theirs, for a while) as they wandered back to his car, making plans for the evening ahead when he had realized where they were. A mutual look and shared smiles was all it had taken for him to reach for the door and usher her inside, his hand falling to the small of her back with practiced ease.

It hadn't taken them long to find the display of stuffed animals, and they had reached for the same bunny at the same time, fingers brushing (once more) against its soft fur. Decision made, they had taken some time to wander the store and had found themselves in the dollhouse aisle.

He let her set the pace through the aisle, and she came to stop in front of a display of dollhouse kits. He followed her gaze to the top shelf, then looked back at her, taking in the crease between her brows and the distressed look in her eyes as she studied the kit that had captivated her attention. A blush stained her cheeks when she caught him staring, and she had hugged the rabbit in her arms closer. He was sure that she didn't know she had done it, the gesture so innocent and childlike that he wanted to pull her into his arms and protect her from the world.

His thumb stroked against her back, and he waited for her to meet his gaze again. "Tell me."

She smiled, the lost little girl smile that always broke (crushed) his heart when it didn't quite meet her eyes. "It's the wrong color."

He looked back at the kit, taking in the picture of the tiny house with utilitarian white clapboards and small black shutters, before looking back at her. "What color should it be?"

"Yellow." Her answer was quick, her eyes taking on a misty, far-away look and he knew she wasn't just making an aesthetic observation. "Yellow the color of daffodils in the springtime, trim as white as a new-fallen snow, and shutters the color of the summer sky." Although she was a best-selling author and wove words together in a way that drew him in every time he opened one of her novels, it was rare that she waxed so poetic out loud. When she stopped and looked at him, a deep blush had stained her cheeks once more and she had bitten her lip, her jaw jutting out to the side.

He smiled and dusted his knuckles against her cheek, catching a strand of hair and tucking it behind her ear. "Sounds perfect."

Her answering smile was small and a little sad. "It was."

Leaning in, he brushed a kiss against her temple, then pulled back to look at her again. A thrill ran up his spine when the answering smile she gave him no longer had the sad edge to it.

They had turned in unison then, arms brushing, and gone to pay for the rabbit (splitting the cost, of course). When they left, she slid her first two fingers between his first two fingers (backs of their hands brushing once more) and curled her fingers around his, locking their hands together. He looked down at their joined hands, then met her gaze and smiled, squeezing her fingers with his.

The ringing of his cell phone had sent thoughts of dollhouses (and of a small, serious girl with big blue eyes) scattering then, and the partners (but oh so much more than _just_ partners) had gone back to work.

The weeks passed, and they had settled into a comfortable pattern while figuring out just how everything about their new (shared) reality worked.

They ate meals together (which wasn't new at all) and exercised side by side (which really wasn't new, either.) They had coffee and did paperwork (which also weren't anything new) and they both noticed (but never said) that every single thing they had done _before _took on a whole new meaning _now_. They weren't "just partners" they were "_partners_" and it made everything better, somehow.

The biggest change (and their favorite one of all) came at the end of day, instead of saying goodnight and returning their respective (lonely) apartments and their separate (empty) beds, they went to bed together (which was still oh, so very, new) at whichever apartment they happened to be at. They snuggled under the covers and broke the laws of physics (again and again) and in the afterglow, would fall asleep wrapped around each other, and wake together in the morning to start the whole process all over again.

The days turned to weeks and just when Booth thought that life couldn't get any better because (for the first time in a long time - maybe ever) he was truly happy and life was good (better than good), Bones had made him even happier by telling him that he was going to be a father.

The day after her unexpected announcement, he found himself on his own for lunch. Although he had wanted spend the day in bed (doing more celebrating) she had needed to go to work, citing a breakfast meeting with the Jeffersonian board of directors and a late lunch meeting with her publisher; neither meeting being something which she could get out of on such short notice.

He had used the morning to catch up on paperwork (between bouts of staring off into space, grinning like a fool) and at lunchtime, had taken the opportunity to run by the dry cleaner and do a few other boring errands (which were so much more boring without her). Heading back to his truck after a quick lunch at the diner, he passed the toy store and (in a burst of giddy inspiration) swung inside to make a purchase.

Later that evening, after dinner was made, and the kitchen cleaned up, Booth pulled her into the living room.

"I got something today."

"When?"

He guided her to sit on the couch. "On my lunch break."

Sitting down next to her, he pulled a bag from beneath the end table beside the couch and placed it in her lap.

She looked from the bag (printed with little ducks and pigs and rabbits) to him, a puzzled expression on her face. "What's this?"

He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Open it."

Separating the sheets of tissue paper obscuring the contents of the bag, she looked inside. "Oh, Booth." Her voice was a gentle whisper, and he watched her eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she pulled the soft, brown bunny from the bag. "It's perfect."

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her tears away, and agreed that it was perfect.

The perfection of that moment wove itself into the ebb and flow of daily life, and their life together took on a feeling that he could only describe as magical. She, of course, disagreed (because there's no such thing as magic) but neither of them could deny that their single life shared was better than their solitary lives had ever been.

They both agreed that they needed time and space to just _be_ together, so they were content to keep the magical perfection of their new reality just between them (and the bunny) for a while.

The thing about secrets as precious as the one between them though, is that they are meant to be shared. They both knew the time to share had arrived the day he walked into the bedroom and found her crying because her favorite pants would no longer button.

He held her while the tears fell and she prattled on about increased hormone production. Then she had raised her tear-streaked face from his shoulder and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and asked him a question that, at equal turns, broke his heart and made him want to laugh and kiss her silly.

"It's normal, right Booth? I'm normal to be crying over something as illogical as this?"

"Aw, Bones." He smiled and stroked her cheek. "You're not normal, baby. You're extraordinary."

And that became their mantra whenever her hormones got the best of her, and it was perfect.

As the person whose life would be most affected by the arrival of the baby, they decided that Parker should be the first person to learn of their exciting news. For three days they were both nervous about the prospect of telling him, Booth especially, was concerned that his son would feel displaced or left out.

Their concerns, though, proved to be unfounded, because Parker took the news in stride and was quite excited about the prospect of being a big brother. Parker's reaction calmed their nerves about telling the rest of their family and friends, and before long, everyone knew.

The days turned to weeks and the weeks into months and the partners found that their lives had fallen a comfortable pattern that was almost perfect.

The fact that it was almost perfect (instead of just being all the way perfect) was their first bump in the road they were walking together.

It started as a small discussion. He said that neither of them really liked switching off weeks at their respective apartments; she agreed. He wanted them to find their own place. She thought he should just move in with her. He got angry, and she didn't really understand why, until the night he wasn't there to catch her when she fell.

She found clarity while waiting for him to come rescue her from the forest of boxes that had sprung up in her office, and they had another perfect (albeit short) moment standing in her office surrounded by crates.

Then they began the hunt for the perfect house to create some great memories (a place where they could have a tree house and a pool) and things were perfect again.

Until they hit the next bump, and he got angry when she announced, in a very matter of fact tone, (at a crime scene, while squatting next to yet another mangled corpse) that they were having a girl.

It wasn't that he was angry - far from it, in fact - he was overjoyed that they were having a girl. From the day Brennan told him she was pregnant, he had been imaging what it would be like to have a little girl with bouncing brown pig-tails and big blue eyes and dimpled grin. It was just that he wasn't happy that he hadn't been there when Brennan found out for sure.

All of his disappointment and irritation at having missed the appointment dissipated the moment she showed him the DVD of the ultrasound. It wasn't the same as being there for the real thing of course, but sitting next to his partner, watching the grainy image filling the screen as she pointed out the baby's features and told him that their daughter had his mental protuberance (which sounded so much more impressive than "chin"), was its own kind of perfect.

Two days later, driving Parker back to Rebecca's after soccer practice, Booth shared the news with his son.

"So, we found out the other day. In a few months you're going to have a little sister."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course we're sure. I wouldn't tell you that if we weren't. Bones had an ultrasound on Monday. I would have told you sooner, Bub, but I didn't want to tell you over the phone."

"Oh." Parker turned and stared out the window.

At a stoplight, Booth turned and looked at his son. "What's wrong, Parks?"

"Nothing."

"Parker."

His son continued to stare out the window.

"Parker, look at me."

Without lifting his head from his hand, Parker looked at his father.

"Now talk to me. What's wrong?"

Parker sighed. "Can you ask Bones to have a boy instead?"

Booth bit back a smile. "I'm afraid that decision wasn't up to me or Bones, Parks."

"Then whose decision was it?"

"God's." For once, Booth was happy that Bones wasn't with them. He was not going to explain genetics or how gender was determined to his twelve year-old son.

"Oh." Parker turned to look out the window again.

"What's going on, Parker? I thought you were excited about the baby."

Parker sighed, sounding like the weight of the world was on his small shoulders. "That was when I thought it would be a boy."

"What's wrong with having a little sister?"

Parker shrugged.

"Parker."

He sighed again. "I was going to show the baby my video games, and how to ride a skateboard and how to hit a baseball, and how throw a perfect spiral and how to hit a perfect slapshot. And we were going to go camping and go to baseball games and hockey games and it was going to be fun having a little brother."

The confession came out in one big breath and Booth had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling about all the plans his son had made. "You can do all that with a little sister, too, Parker."

Parker sighed again. "No you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because girls don't ride skateboards and they don't play video games. They play with dolls and want to be princesses and have tea parties and they cry when they get dirty and they hate camping and they don't like sports."

"Who told you that?"

"Laskey."

"How does Laskey know?"

"He has two little sisters now. He told me it's _awful_. They have to be included in _everything_ and if they don't get their own way, they cry. And when he was trying to show them how to play ball, one of them fell down and skinned her knee and Laskey got yelled at because they're little and she said he wasn't being careful enough."

"She?"

"His step-mom."

"Ah."

"Laskey says she was cool before. They'd swim and horse around and do fun stuff, but ever since the babies were born, she's kind of a bi-"

Booth's head snapped to look at his son.

"She's mean."

Booth let the language (which he was pretty sure was a direct quote from Laskey) slide. He was starting to get the picture, and it wasn't pretty. He didn't think it had much to do with tea parties at all. "So when he goes over to spend time with his dad, he has to play with his sisters."

Parker nodded and stared out the window again.

"How much time does he get to spend with his dad, Parks?"

Parker lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "Not as much as he did before."

"Before the babies were born." It wasn't a question.

Parker nodded.

Booth tightened his fingers on the steering wheel. He wanted to throttle Laskey, then find his dad and punch him for being such a rotten parent. Instead, he turned to look at his son. "That's not going to happen to you, Parker."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

"How?"

Having arrived at Rebecca's house, Booth pulled the car to a stop, put it in "park" and turned to look at his son.

"I know because you're my son, Parker. I love you more than you can possibly even begin to imagine and it won't matter how many other kids I have, I'm still going to want to spend time with you."

"What if you're too busy?"

"I'm never going to be too busy for you, Parker. We're still going to do all kinds of stuff together. You'll still come over. We'll still go camping. I'll still coach your baseball team. We'll still play football and hockey. I'll still go to your games. For a while, the biggest difference is going to be that you'll have another person in the cheering section at your games."

That got a small smile. "Babies can't cheer."

"You don't know that."

Parker laughed a little. "Dad…"

"Parker…" Booth mocked his son's tone, grinning, then got serious again. "I mean it, Bub. I'm never, ever going to be too busy for you, okay?"

Parker nodded. "Okay."

"And Bones isn't going to get mean."

"But I'm not her kid."

"Parker. Bones has known you almost your entire life. She loves you."

"She does?"

Booth nodded. "Yes. She does."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"How do you know?"

"Because she has all your soccer games on her calendar. Because she makes sure your favorite snacks are in the house. Because she has your school picture in her wallet, and has another one of the three of us at that hockey game in a frame on her desk at work. But mainly because she told me so."

"She did?"

"Yeah, she did."

"I love her, too."

"I know you do, Bub."

"I'm glad you two are back together, Dad."

Booth smiled, and didn't bother to correct his son. "Me too, Bub. Me too."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think the baby will like sports?"

"I don't know, Parks. But I don't see why she wouldn't. She is a Booth, after all."

"So she'll know she's got to like the Phillies and the Flyers, right?"

Booth laughed. "Maybe not right away, but there's no reason why we can't teach her that. Lots of girls like baseball and hockey."

Parker considered that for a moment. "Maybe having a sister won't be so bad."

Booth grinned. "I'm glad you think so."

"Just…" Parker made a face. "Am I going to have to go to tea parties?"

Booth laughed at that. "I think you have a few years before you have to worry about tea parties, Parks."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Movement at the house caught Booth's eye and he looked up to see Rebecca standing on the front porch. He waved and she gave a small wave in return.

"Looks like your mom's probably got dinner ready."

Parker turned and waved at his mom. "We're having spaghetti tonight."

"Sounds good. You want some help with your gear?"

"Sure."

They both got out of the car and Booth dragged Parker's backpack out of the back and passed it to his son. "Geez, what have you got in here? Rocks?"

"No." Parker's answer was almost swallowed by his infections laughter and Booth was happy to hear the sound.

Booth grabbed Parker's soccer gear, slammed the door shut and walked his son up the walk. Rebecca held the door open for them and Booth carried Parker's bag in the house and deposited it in the utility room while Parker made a beeline for the bathroom to wash up for dinner.

While he washed up, Booth told Rebecca about Parker's concern that Booth wouldn't have as much time for him after the baby was born, and about his reassurances to Parker that his fears were unfounded.

"I know that, Seeley. I've told you before, you're a good father and Parker's a lucky kid. That new baby is going to be just as lucky."

Booth smiled. "Thanks, Rebecca."

"Do you know what you're having yet?"

Booth felt his smile grow. "A girl."

Rebecca smiled. "That's great! Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Rebecca."

"Pass my best on to Dr. Brennan as well."

"I will, thanks." Booth looked down the hall where Parker had disappeared. "Listen, telling Parker that the baby's a girl is what got our conversation started. Laskey's been running his mouth and complaining about his father's wife and filling Parker full of all kinds of crap about little sisters."

Rebecca sighed, shaking her head. "That doesn't surprise me at all. That kid likes to run off at the mouth."

"Yeah, I've figured that out." He glanced down the hallway again. "Just do me a favor, huh? If Parker starts worrying about it again; let me know, huh? I'm sure he believes what I've told him, but I just…" Booth shrugged as he trailed off. "I just want him to know I'm here for him whenever he needs me."

"He knows that, Seeley. And so do I, but I'll let you know if I notice anything."

Booth gave her a small smile and nodded. "Thanks."

Parker came down the hallway then, holding up his hands for his mother. "All clean."

"How much of it is on the towel?"

"None."

Booth laughed at the look they gave each other, clearly sharing a long-running joke.

"I've got to get going, and you two need to have your dinner so you can do your homework, Parker." He grabbed Parker around the shoulders and pulled him in to a loose hug.

Parker's grumbling about homework got a laugh from both his parents.

"One more thing before you take off. Just as you pulled up, I got a call from my boss. A case I've been prepping for finally got a start date for the trial so I'll be putting in some long days soon-"

Booth cut her off before she could even finish the sentence. "When are you going to start pulling the late nights?"

"I don't know yet. I should have a better idea tomorrow or early next week."

"Let me know when you have things confirmed and we'll figure out the details."

Rebecca smiled. "Thanks."

Booth returned the smile. "Anytime. You know that."

Rebecca smiled again. "Parker, why don't you walk your dad out to the car, then come in and help me set the table."

"Awww –" A nudge from Booth's hip stopped the complaint mid-stream. "Yes ma'am."

"I'll call you when I know more about the dates for this thing."

"Sounds good."

"I'll leave you two to say goodbye."

"G'night, Rebecca."

"Bye, Seeley. And congratulations, again."

Booth grinned. "Thanks."

Booth watched her walk down the hall and disappear into the kitchen, then turned to his son. "C'mon, give your old man a hug, and then you can walk me out to my car."

Parker wrapped his arms around Booth's waist, and as he wrapped his arms around his son's shoulders, Booth realized that he didn't have to lean over quite as far as he had the last time he'd hugged his son. That thought was mixed with equal parts pride that his son was growing and mourning for the little boy he had once been.

Shaking off the thought, Booth wrapped his arm around Parker's shoulders as they walked out to the car. "So, looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks, huh?"

Parker grinned up at him. "Yeah! It's going to be awesome."

Booth returned the grin. "Just like it always is."

When they reached the car, Parker gave Booth another quick hug before running back up the sidewalk to the porch. Booth got in the car, Parker went in the house and stood behind the screen waiting. Booth pressed the horn four times in quick succession, then waved and waited for Parker's return wave. He didn't even remember how the goodbye ritual had started, but it had become something that was just theirs and no visit was complete without it.

That night, curled up together on the couch, Booth told Brennan about his conversations with both Parker and Rebecca, and about upcoming adjustment to their schedule.

"That will be nice. I enjoy spending time with Parker."

Booth smiled and kissed her hair. "I know you do."

They fell silent, and Booth could almost hear the wheels in her head turning. Sure enough, after a few minutes, she bit her lip and looked up at him.

"In the past, you've told me how much the time you spent with Hank while he taught you how to use tools and do other physical tasks meant to you. I know there isn't a lot of space here for that sort of thing, but perhaps you should find some kind of project to bond over. Maybe build a birdhouse for the back yard."

Booth smiled. "We haven't even found a house yet, let alone a back yard."

"No… we haven't, but we will. And I think I'd like a birdhouse in the back yard when we do." She stroked her belly. "It'll be a good way to teach the baby about the cycles of nature."

Booth knew what she was doing and he loved her for it. "If you want a birdhouse, Baby. We'll build you a birdhouse."

She pressed in closer, and he slid his hand over her belly, and they sat together on the couch and it was perfect.

The rest of that week passed in a blur. Plans were made with Rebecca and a schedule for Parker was worked out, and Booth shared Brennan's idea that they build a birdhouse with Parker, who thought it was going to awesome.

Booth and Parker went to the toy store together to pick out a birdhouse kit. Booth would have preferred to make one from scratch, but since he didn't have a workshop with a table saw (yet) he settled for the next best thing. They got home and set up a small work area in Parker's bedroom and over several evenings that week, built Brennan a birdhouse.

When it was complete and all the paint and varnish had dried, they unveiled their creation (with an orange body and a black roof) with great fanfare and giggling. Brennan hugged them both and placed it on the bookshelf with the gentle touch and reverence that Booth normally associated with the way she handled the priceless artifacts that populated her office and apartment. When she stepped back to admire it, she smiled and said that it was the most perfect birdhouse she'd ever seen.

A few days later, Booth was sitting in her office flipping through a toy catalog that Angela had passed along while waiting for Brennan to finish paperwork. He turned the page and smiled at the picture of two little girls playing with a monstrous pink dollhouse. A few pages later, a little boy and his dad were building something together with a kid-sized tool set. Booth kept flipping through, not really paying attention when he was struck by a sudden thought.

Flipping the pages back, he read the text next to the pictures. He looked from the catalog, to Bones and back to the catalog again, trying to contain the grin that was trying to spread across his face.

"You going to be a few more minutes, Bones?"

She looked up at him, clearly deep in thought. "What?"

He grinned and shook his head. "Nothing. I've got to go make a phone call. You need anything? Water? Tea?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks, Booth. I should be done in a little bit though, and we can go home."

He crossed the room and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Take your time. I'm going to be a few minutes on this call."

She was already focusing back on her work. "Okay."

He grinned and stroked her hair before leaving the office and heading out the doors of the lab. He kept walking until he was out in the garden and assured he was well out of earshot of any squints who might be hanging around, then he pulled out his phone and hit the number two speed-dial on his phone.

"Parker? It's Dad. I've got an idea for our next project…"

The following week Booth picked Parker up from school and they went to toy store where Brennan had seen the dollhouse that wasn't quite perfect. When Booth had told Parker about the plan, he had been a bit skeptical at first.

"A dollhouse, Dad?"

"Yeah, for your sister."

"Can't you just buy those in the store?"

"Sure you can, but how many kids can say her dad and her brother built one for her before she was even born? It'll be one of a kind."

"Can we paint this one Phillies colors?"

That got a laugh. "Nope, I already know what colors it needs to be."

"Awww…"

"But we can build a bird feeder when we're done with this and paint it Phillies colors."

"Okay!"

Booth and Parker made their purchase, brought it back to the house and snuck it into his room before Brennan got home.

"Now remember, Parks, you can't tell Bones what we're working on."

"Because it's a secret."

"Right."

"Can the baby really hear what we're saying?"

Booth nodded. "She sure can, and you don't want to ruin the surprise for her, right?"

"Right." Parker nodded in agreement. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you know she can hear what we're saying in there?"

"She kicks when you talk to her." Booth grinned at his son. "She likes it when I sing to her."

Parker made a face.

"What's that look for?"

"Maybe she's kicking so you'll stop."

"Hey!" Booth grabbed Parker to deliver a noogie, and that quickly devolved into a wrestling match that left them both laying on the floor, laughing and winded, and Booth thought that it was perfect.

Over the following weeks, whenever Brennan asked what they were working on, neither Parker nor Booth would tell her. They just kept saying, "it's a secret."

"Can't you even give me a hint?"

Parker shook his head, and crawled onto the couch next to Bones. Booth watched as his son put his hands on either side of her belly and whispered, close to her ear. "It's a secret for the baby, Bones. If we tell you, she'll hear it and it'll ruin the surprise."

Booth grinned when he realized that Parker was covering the baby's ears the way Booth had done so many times when Parker was little. His grin grew when he realized that his partner had reached the same conclusion and covered Parker's small hands with her own. "Then you'd better keep it a secret so she doesn't hear."

Parker nodded in agreement. "It's perfect though, Bones. She's going to love it."

"I'm sure she will, Parker."

And Booth had to agree with his son that it was, in fact, perfect.

The leaves changed and the days grew shorter. Booth and Brennan found their house and moved in. Booth and Parker hung the birdhouse in the back yard, (with Brennan standing inside to ensure that she could see it from the kitchen window).

The dollhouse project moved out to the garage, and both Parker and Booth made Brennan promise not to peek. She crossed her heart and pinky swore to make them both happy, but she drew the line at spitting in her hand and shaking on it. The fact was, however, that no matter how many rituals they asked her to participate in, they weren't needed. Booth knew that she would keep her promise and let them surprise her and the baby.

And then, although it seemed like they had been standing on that street corner only yesterday, their baby arrived in a totally unconventional location (which was fitting, because there was nothing conventional about their relationship and it seemed their daughter was determined to follow suit) and everyone who heard the story agreed that it was perfect.

Booth found a whole different kind of perfection the first time they introduced Parker to his sister. He watched as Bones showed Parker how to hold the baby just so, and when the baby wrapped her tiny fingers around Parker's much larger one for the first time, the look on Parker's face told Booth that she was holding the boy's heart in her tiny fist (metaphorically, of course).

Booth and Parker continued to work on the dollhouse, and then one day, about a month after her birth, they were done, which was perfect, because it was just in time for Christmas. Rebecca knew all about the dollhouse, thanks to Parker's excited progress reports, and had offered to let Parker spend the night Christmas Eve (because he shouldn't miss his sister's first Christmas) and Booth thought that life couldn't get any more perfect.

Christmas Eve night, after the baby was tucked in and Bones had settled down to get some sleep before the next feeding, Booth crept from their bed and knocked on Parker's bedroom door. Together they went to the garage, carried their creation in, and set it up on the coffee table. They draped the whole thing with sheet and went back to bed.

Bright and early the next morning, the baby woke everyone up with her hungry cries, and while she had her breakfast, Booth and Parker made pancakes. Once everyone had eaten, Parker led the way to the living room practically vibrating with excitement.

The settled Brennan and the baby on the couch in front of the coffee table, and then, with great fanfare, Booth and Parker pulled the sheet from dollhouse.

She gasped, her free hand covering her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. Booth watched her as she took in the sight of the yellow house, with the white trim and the pretty blue shutters. She looked from Booth to Parker to the dollhouse in front of her and back to Booth again.

"Isn't it great, Bones?" Parker was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Do you think she'll like it?"

She nodded, wiping at tears. "She'll love it, Parker." She turned to look at Booth and swiped at more tears. "It's perfect."


End file.
